I met you for the first time in first grade. I was in the “cool kids” group and you wanted to be in it, but they didn’t want you in it so we were assholes.
Around third grade I saw you again riding your bike in circles and I hid next to my friends house cause I was scared you’d recognize me and be mad at me for being a douche in first grade. From there we became best friends for a very long time.
We did a lot of crazy shit, and we spent a lot of time together. You were my best friend. If there was anything I wanted to do, I wanted you to be doing it with me. If we were ever to star in a movie you would’ve been my wacky crazy co-star and we would’ve made like 10 bucks cause our lives were gay as fuck and all we did was play with toys and look at tits.
We had a falling out cause you felt I was using you for your game systems cause I didn’t have any and I was just a dick about it.
Luckily we became friends again. Unfortunately we didn’t hang out much.
You moved all the way to like the other side of town, and neither of our parents wanted to drive out there. We saw each other rarely.
High school started and then we didn’t even talk really.
Freshman year passed.
Sophomore year passed.
Junior started and you invited me to a party. It was the most awkward, yet coolest party I’ve been to. I was so insanely out of place, but your friends were cool and I was with my best friend again. This time we were mature, we were adults, we were drunk as fuck. I still remember being almost too drunk and watching you play quarters with some hot chick at your table.
We didn’t talk much after this again.
I saw you, here and there at the starbucks you worked at but we didn’t really talk. We were different people. But anytime we talked we were still best friends.
I don’t remember when it was, but you had randomly showed up at my house. It was the most awesome surprise, and I remember us going to Jack in the Box and just talking. You were the same person, except you got chubbier and into MMA. I think this is how you invited me to the party on Labor Day weekend of Junior year.
I’ll also never forget the time we were hanging out in the neighborhood we went trick or treating in one year and we played tackle football with some kids younger than us. It was my first time playing tackle. A kid half my size made me fly. You couldn’t stop laughing and neither could I.
Then one day I get a text from you, telling me you had a rare kind of cancer that only about 500 people in the world had. You made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal, so I wasn’t that worried.
We saw each other off and on from this, but I was a shitty person. The person I know longer than anyone but family has cancer, and I never text him, call him, or ask to hang out with him? What kind of fucked up shit is that?
We talk maybe 20 times in four years and when you see me hanging out with my friends in the sante fe you fuck with me by grabbing my ass and pretending to be a girl hitting on me. It was like we’d seen each other every day. This was the first time I saw you after you got cancer and went through surgery. You walked with a cane.
Your 19th birthday was coming up, and you told me you were going to have a party and get a hotel room and you’d let me know what’s up, but I never got a text. For some reason I didn’t think to text you and see why.
I saw you, at Pirates of the Carribean: On Stranger Tides’ midnight realease. You were sitting about seven seats away from me. I didn’t say hi. I don’t know why, I have no excuse. This was the last I’d ever see you again. And the thing that I will never stop regretting for the end of my life.
My mom told me she had spoken to your grandma and you weren’t doing very well, that I should add you on facebook and we should talk. I found you on facebook, I added you. But we never talked. You are my best friend, you had cancer, and we never talked. There is something wrong with me, something I vowed to change after my grandpa passed. I fucked that up.
Last night I saw a weird picture tag of you sleeping with a bottle of alcohol in your hands. I looked at the pictures. One of the captions read something about partying with you again up in heaven and my heart dropped.
I went to his facebook page and saw tons of people writing on his wall saying he will forever be missed and to rest in piece.
I was in shock.
My best friend Roger Salcedo passed away on August 20th. I will forever miss you. You will always be in my heart, and in my mind. And what ever your heaven may be, I hope you can forgive me for not being the friend I once was towards you.
On top of the regrets, I’m having an internal battle. My great grandma died last year, and my grandpa the year before that. I’ve shed a few tears for them, but I cried at least three times writing this.I just feel like I did/am doing something wrong towards them because this is upsetting me so much more. I don’t know what to do. Or what to say. All I can think about is him. The things we did together. Trying to remember all memories we had together. I slept about three hours last night. 11-1 was sleep. 1-5 was me trying to sleep but everytime I closed my eyes all I could think about was him, or thinking about trying not to think about him. and then 5ish-7:40 was sleep. So maybe I got a little more than three. but still, the majority of my night was spent thinking.
I miss you Roger, and I’m so very, very sorry I wasn’t there.